


10.09 "The Things We Left Behind"

by youaresunlight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Boyfriends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 10, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:17:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youaresunlight/pseuds/youaresunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A coda to the mid-season finale (season 10 episode 9), wherein Cas and Claire return to the bunker with Dean and Sam. Dean seeks solace from the Mark in Castiel, and Cas allows him to do so; he could never deny Dean anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	10.09 "The Things We Left Behind"

It’s tense on the way back to the bunker.

Claire is quiet for the first time since he found her, tremors running through her small frame down to her hands. They’re fisted in his trench coat like she needs him to be her father right now, and if that’s what she requires, Cas will give it to her, wholeheartedly. It is the least he can do even if it’s make-believe - pretend.

She’s strong, has hurt and fight in her, though Cas’ mind wanders to the ‘what if’s and terrible possibilities. If he’d gotten there too late, a few minutes later than he did, she could have… The thought shakes him to his core and he holds her tight, patting her shoulder.

Sam is driving but keeps on glancing at Dean. Well, everyone is, really; Claire too when her face isn’t buried in his shirt. At one point he peeks down and Claire up, her face full of questions that she’s tactful enough not to ask.

So it’s tense - hushed and muted - unspoken words filling the air, stifling them.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

He hasn’t been to the bunker in weeks, but it’s the closest place he has to a home.

Sam offers to show Claire to a spare room. She doesn’t leave without hugging Cas first.

“Thanks,” he hears her say, and he wonders what Jimmy would’ve done if he were here. Then after a moment, almost reflexively, he pulls her closer and presses a kiss into her hair.

“Good night, Claire,” he murmurs, “and call to me if… if you need anything.”

She pulls away, wiping at her eyes. It smudges her makeup and she looks younger, more her age. “Gonna answer me this time?” she asks, but it’s accompanied by a light shove on his arm.

“I will,” he assures her. She smiles, gives him a nod before following Sam.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

He finds Dean in his bedroom, staring at his hands, his form slumped over with both elbows on both knees. Cas goes into the bathroom to dampen a small towel, figures it would be more comforting than his grace.

Dean doesn’t move when the bed dips with Cas’ weight, and Cas lifts the washcloth to the caked, oxidized blood on Dean’s temple. He then takes each of Dean’s hands, wiping the palms one by one. He keeps the contact gentle, as though the skin is broken, but most of the blood isn’t Dean’s and Cas knows that’s the reason Dean is silent.

“Guess I was right to warn you, huh?” Dean mumbles after a while. His smile’s so fractured that it stirs an ache in Cas’ chest beside his heart, perhaps inside of it - an ache with every beat.

“Dean-”

“You walked out,” Dean laughs, hollow. “I saw, back at that house. You… just…” He gestures vaguely with his hand and Cas catches it, cradles it.

“Dean, Claire was… upset and I-”

“No, I know.” His features are soft in the low light. “S’just me being difficult, Cas. Nothing new.”

“You’re not difficult,” Cas tells him.

Dean merely huffs and looks away, says the next thing so quietly that Cas nearly misses it.

“Will you stay? I mean, at least till you sort things out for Claire?”

Cas feels a little tug in his stomach, like it’s dropping suddenly, because Dean believes he wouldn’t stay if it weren’t for Claire. Even after everything, Dean can’t imagine Cas staying for  _him_ , and Cas crowds as much conviction as he can into his answer. “Yes, Dean. I’ll stay.”

“Good.”

Dean leans forward, fingers ghosting over Cas’ jaw. “That’s really good,” he whispers once more and kisses him, warm and possessive. Dean always kisses him like it’s exactly what he wants.

It’s intoxicating, touching Dean again, to slip a hand beneath Dean’s shirt and feel the solid of his body, his heat, the want. Dean’s hands are everywhere, tugging on his hair, curling around his cheek, and although being gentle is usually Cas’ pace to lead, tonight he allows Dean to just take… and take.

They become breathless fast and Cas moans at Dean biting his lip. Dean smiles against Cas’ mouth in satisfaction and swallows each noise almost hungrily, drawing out more.

“Cas,” he breathes quietly, shifting up and closer until he’s in Cas’ lap, straddling his thighs. They’re not kissing anymore but his eyes still close halfway, and his mouth is so red that Cas simply stares at it, in complete awe.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs again, leaning his forehead on Cas’. The room goes quiet save for their heavy, wet-sounding breaths. “Cas, will you- Can you…”

“Anything,” Cas finishes for him, and lies back on the bed when Dean nods, green eyes dark.

His trench coat is draped on a chair out in the library, and he doesn’t bother with the rest while watching Dean stand up to shrug off his clothes. The shirt goes first, then the pants and the boxers, and then Dean’s weight settles back on his thighs, calloused fingers unbuckling his belt.

Dean unzips his fly and bends forward, kisses him softly yet with a sense of delirium, of inevitability.

Cas’ hands lift up and find purchase on Dean’s hips.

“I want-” Dean exhales sharply. The words don’t come but he moves to the side, pulls Cas with him till he’s flat on his back, Cas between his legs. “Want you like this.”

Cas kisses him and it’s strangely slow, unhurried. They don’t talk except when Dean pants, “Yeah, Cas. Shit. Yes.”

So much of it is familiar, the planes and angles of Dean’s body, the sounds from the back of his throat. Cas rocks into Dean once he’s open enough and Dean clutches him to his chest, hips moving impatiently. Cas’ breath grows ragged and there’s that ache again, next to his heart.

Dean feels so good, a slow burn, and Cas’ climax creeps up like a fever, a relentless climb. It’s hot everywhere and tight, pleasure spiking along his spine. Cas smothers his groans in Dean’s neck as he thrusts.

He’s scared, he realizes. Scared of what he promised.

He’s seen what Dean is capable of yet if there’s one person he could never hurt, it’s Dean.

He could also never deny Dean anything, not really. He feels trapped by Dean, for Dean, because of Dean so he’s scared. Scared shitless. He supposes this is what people mean when they say that.

He looks down at Dean under him, open and pliant and bringing him in further with his ankles. 

Dean catches his gaze and Cas’ chest throbs again, because Dean- Dean is scared too.

“Don’t,” Dean says roughly, putting his face to Cas’ collarbone and urging Cas on in long, driving thrusts. When they both come Cas presses his face fiercely into Dean’s chest, hard, his eyes pricking at the edges, the warm human expanse of skin beneath him. He doesn’t pull out until Dean whimpers and pushes at his shoulders.

“Mm, Cas, c’mon,” he says.

Everything is suddenly very cold. His chest is sticky, his cheeks shockingly damp, and Cas turns his head away to hide it all.

“Don’t forget what I said,” Dean tells him. Cas closes his eyes, registering pain. “I can’t be that thing again.”

Cas swallows around the knot in his throat. “We don’t have to think about that now.”

“ _Cas_ -”

“Not tonight,” Cas pleads, and Dean must hear the desperation because he stops, falling quiet. He turns onto his side then, facing Cas, and Cas opens his arms like a pair of wings to wrap around him. “Maybe tomorrow,” Cas says into Dean’s hair. “But please, Dean, not tonight. Tonight we’re just… us, okay?”

Their heartbeats finally slow, in tandem.

“… Yeah,” Dean says, his voice choked and gruff. “Yeah, okay. Just us. I can- We can do that.”

Cas kisses his cheek and Dean’s skin is wet, salty beneath his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this request on [Tumblr](http://puppycastiel.tk/post/104892188290/hi-i-dont-want-to-bother-you-but-could-you-maybe): "hi i don't want to bother you but could you maybe write a followup/coda for the mid season finale?? destiel of course and maybe some claire too?"
> 
> Do leave me kudos, comments, and love! :)


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